


The Mark of Cain

by Zandra_Court



Category: Starsky & Hutch, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-24 19:38:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zandra_Court/pseuds/Zandra_Court
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas knows of an ancient relic that might be used to cure Sam from the sickness left in him following the trials.  Trouble is, its last known whereabouts was Southern California in 1977.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mark of Cain

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place SPN post-S8 finale and references events in the Starsky & Hutch episode "Bloodbath" (S2-15). You don't have to have seen that episode to read the fic, but it will add to your experience, IMO. Plus it's the first episode directed by Paul Michael Glaser, who played Starsky, so it's a goodie.

“Cas? It’s a rock pile.”

Dean looked at the small pile of stones. The more he stared, though, the more impossible their stacked formation became. “How do they stay stacked like that?”

“Druids were very good at making their portals, Dean.” Cas was busy laying out the cloth, copper bowl and candles on the soft mossy ground.

“This was so much easier when you could use your angel-mojo to zap me through time and space. This won’t make me constipated will it?” 

Cas rolled his eyes. “I’ve never called you a baby-in-plaid-flannel before, but I’m regretting the missed opportunities. They have been many.”

“Losing your wings has made you sassy, y’know that.” Dean turned and took a swig from his hip flask. Truth was, he liked sassy, human Cas. But he also made him think about 2014!Cas and hoped that he could forestall that from happening. Granted, Lucifer was in the box, but what if Cas had always been destined to turn human by this time? Or what if **that** Cas was just what would happen if Cas ever became human? Fate was a bitch. He’d met her. He knew.

“Are you ready?” Cas was sitting with his legs lotus-style in front of the small prayer circle he’d created.

“What if this doesn’t work?”

Cas shrugged his shoulders. “Charlie will research something else. But the Weapon was last rumored to be in Southern California around 1977. If we are going to fix Sam, this is the most powerful and certain way I can think of.” Dean nodded and sat down on the other side of the prayer circle.

“Were you there, y’know, when it was used the first time?” Dean had trouble imagining how much of human history the angel had seen.

“In the early days of humanity, we far outnumbered you. The archangels were the ones tasked with your protection. The rest of us just lived as God’s first creations. Though a few of us lesser angels took some interest, yes.”

Dean felt a little pang of jealousy that in the course of human existence, there certainly had to have been others who shared a “profound bond” with Castiel. 

“Don’t ask questions you don’t really want the answers to Dean.” He gave Cas a surprised look, and then gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head.

“Alright, give me your hands.” Cas held his hands out in front of himself, palms up. Dean laid his own palms against the angel’s. They were warm and soft compared to Dean’s own calloused flesh.

In a steady, clear voice Cas began to speak the incantation, “Bandia iarraimid cead a thrasnú tríd san am atá caite. Beannaigh ár n-aistear agus ár sábháilteacht a chinntiú.” _Of course Cas could speak Irish Gaelic,_ Dean thought.

Cas’s hands started to feel warmer, but that might be because the air around them suddenly got very cold. Dean started to feel Cas’ hands pull away so he locked his fingers around the angel’s wrists, holding them together as the air around them swirled faster and faster. Dean held on tighter, refusing to let go of Cas’ wrists until the wind became less like sitting in a cyclone and more like a steady breeze. In fact, the air smelled salty, and a bit oily. Dean opened eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed and looked around.

They were on a beach, still nighttime, the sound of waves crashing loudly in the surf.

“Well, Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore.” Dean joked.

“No, we’re not. But why call me Toto? And you can let go now.” Dean quickly unclenched his hands from Cas’ wrists. He watched Cas rub them slightly. “Sorry.” Dean muttered.

“It’s OK. I struggle sometimes with how much pain I can feel now.” Seeing Dean’s look of concern, he quickly reassured the man, “You didn’t hurt me, I just feel everything more acutely, that’s all.” Standing up, Cas noticed that the items they had used to contact The Goddess had not made the trip with them. He hoped he would have as little trouble procuring the items in this time has he had in 2013. Looking around he said, “This seems to be California, but when?”

“Should be able to tell by the cars and clothes as soon as we find other people. Though I’m now realizing I should have thought about what we were wearing.” Dean was already feeling warm in his thick flannel and long-sleeve Henley. He began peeling off his layers down to the black Zeppelin t-shirt he had on underneath.

“Should I disrobe also?” The thought of Cas naked made Dean’s stomach flutter.

“Only if you’re hot, um, I mean if you feel warm. We can, uh,” Dean watched Cas pull off the hoodie and long-sleeve t-shirt, which pulled everything up, exposing the muscled abdomen and short dark curls that speckled across, growing thicker as they went down towards Cas’… He snapped his eyes upward as Cas’ face resurfaced from underneath cotton and he pulled his blue t-shirt down. 

“Hey! That’s my shirt.” Dean wasn’t upset but still, they’d bought Cas his own clothes after the fall.

“Is it?” Cas looked away quickly and busied himself with tying the extra shirts around his waist as Dean had done. Dean decided it wasn’t worth talking about, but his shirt looked big on Cas, so he wondered what would have made him mistake it for his own.

“Alright, let’s go find a newspaper or something. And we should probably try to get our hands on some money.”

“How will we do that?” Cas asked, falling into step with Dean as they trudged through the sand towards the concrete path.

“Better not to ask, Rainbow Bright. You won’t like it.” 

“Dean, you know how frustrating it is when you call me things I don’t understand.” Cas’ annoyed voice was one of the reasons Dean did it, but hell if he was going to tell him that.

“We’re gonna hustle it. Or rather, I’m gonna hustle it. You’re just gonna sit there and look pretty.” Cas made a face but stayed silent. Dean wondered when his brother had started giving bitchface lessons because clearly Cas was his prize student.

After walking along the path that winded along the waterfront for about a half a mile, they came across a newspaper box for the Bay City Daily Chronicle. Dean pulled out a quarter and fed it into the box, hoping that the composition of quarters hadn’t changed in 36 years. The door gave way and he reached, grabbing one and closing the door.

“Where in California is Bay City?” Cas asked, standing close to Dean, reading the front page over the hunter’s arm.

“No idea. Give me a sec.” Dean was reading the cover story about a police officer who had been kidnapped by a Satanic cult six months ago, and the trial was being held in Los Angeles. It was high-profile because the cult leader had already been convicted of mass-murder and now his followers were being tried for kidnapping, torture and the murder of a local farmer.

“They have the Weapon.” Cas spoke as his eyes continued to read. Dean glanced over at him.

“How do you know?”

“The Weapon cultivates bloodlust in families. This group lived together like a family.”

“But they weren’t actually related.” Dean pointed out.

“Even at the dawn of time, family didn’t end with blood. God needed to create multiple bloodlines in order to keep the natural law of genetics from corrupting from inbreeding. Cain and Abel were brothers in name, but actually had uniquely created bloodlines. They were less blood brothers than you and Sam.”

“Really? Seems something like that would have been important to write down somewhere.”

“The bible is not a history text, Dean and was never meant to be one.”

Dean no longer cared about this line of conversation, so he folded up the paper. “Well, I have no idea how far it is to LA or if we could find where this cult is located, but the cop they nicked is local, so I say we start by finding him. First, though, money.” Dean looked up and down the boulevard they had been walking along, seeing a neon POOL sign about eight blocks up. “Let’s go.”

&&&&&&

Cas sat uncomfortably at the bar nursing a pale beer that tasted like piss. One good thing the future had in store for it was that the beer got a whole lot better. At least the kind Sam drank. Dean mainly drank whiskey but now that Cas was human, he stayed the hell away from anything Dean drank. He just hated how it made him feel and the things he said and did. The second week after he’d been back at the bunker, Dean tried to teach him something called “quarters” and he’d never been so sick.

Dean walked over, counting out bills as he did. He asked the bartender how much Cas’ tab was and paid the man. “Where is the nearest police station?” Dean asked the barman, who gave him a stern look.

“Why you wanna know?”

“My car was stolen earlier and I want to report it.” Dean smiled and Cas sighed at the lie.

“Whatever.” Cas smirked a little that the bartender didn’t buy Dean’s bullshit. “Station Nine is about two miles due east on Lincoln, which is five blocks north of here.”

Dean pulled on Cas’ arm, getting him to stand up and said, “Thanks” giving the bar man a wink.

“Asshole,” muttered the bartender and Cas actually laughed. “I think I like the past.”

“Shaddup.” Dean gave Cas a slight smack on his head and then pushed the angel ahead of him through the door.

As they walked along the busy thoroughfare that was Lincoln Avenue, Dean was in car-heaven. With every car that drove by, he’d call out the make, model and year and then go on about how new it looked or make fun of the color. 

“This was a great time to be alive Cas!” Cas gave a slight smile, not caring a lick about the cars but enjoying Dean’s happiness at them. 

“I believe my vessel is four years old right now.” 

Dean looked over at him. “Really? Huh. I’m not even born yet. I never thought about you being older than me.”

Cas tossed him a squinty-eyed look. “I’m thousands of years older than you Dean.”

“You are, yeah, but your vessel, well, I just never thought about how old your vessel is. You look good for 40.”

“Is that a compliment? I can’t tell.”

Dean chuckled. “Yes, it’s a compliment. Age ain’t nothin’ but a number.”

“I think we’re here, Dean.” Cas looked across the street at a three story brick building, with BAY CITY POLICE DEPARMENT in bronze letters across an arched doorway and STATION NINE on a smaller square panel to the right of the door. Parked in front of the station was a 1974 Ford Torino, red with a large white stripe along the side. Dean have a low whistle. 

“What?” Cas asked.

“The car is pretty sweet. For a Ford. They handle like a bitch though.”

Cas rolled his eyes and took the lead walking into the station. Dean followed quickly and put an arm on the man’s elbow.

“You better let me do this.”

“Why? We’re not going in as FBI looking like this.” Cas objected.

“You’re just not as used to lying your way through things.”

“Based on your performance at the pool hall, maybe lying isn't going to work so well in this time. Or the way you do it anyway.” Pulling away from Dean, Cas walked up to the Desk Sergeant. “Excuse me, but could we speak to David Starsky?”

“Who is asking?”

“I read about his involvement with the Marcus cult and had some questions for him.”

“Just a second.” The officer got up and went back into the office behind him. Cas gave a superior smile to Dean who returned a half-smile, rolled his eyes and started looking intently through the pamphlets that littered the small table in the waiting area.

A few moments later, the door off to the left opened and out came two men, both were about the same age as Cas and Dean, yet seemed older somehow. The blond man was as tall as Dean, though much thinner. He wore tan slacks and a green cotton t-shirt, his shoulder holster cradling a massive .357 Magnum under his left arm. The other man was the same height as Cas, with dark curly hair. He had on denim jeans that Dean couldn't imagine being any tighter and a dark blue Henley that was unbuttoned down to the end of his sternum. Dean couldn't help licking his lips a little at the sight of the man’s exposed chest. He felt a blush creep up his face as the realized the man noticed him looking. Dean shifted his focus to the Beretta strapped tightly under Curly’s right arm.

“One of you wanted to speak to Starsky?” the blond man asked. Curly walked to stand slightly behind Dean and Cas, which made Dean very nervous. He didn’t like not being able to see what the man was doing, but clearly they were cops, so he knew to just keep still.

Cas held out a hand and said, “Officer Starsky, I just wanted to ask you a question about the Marcus killings.” The blond man looked at him with a hard, steel gaze for a moment, then after glancing at his partner he shook Cas’ hand. “Who are you?” the man asked.

“We study anthropology and have reason to think a historical artifact may have been used in the killings.”

The man shook his head. “I doubt it. The murder weapons were all knives taken from the victim’s home. We have them in evidence. Nothing you can’t buy from Sears.” Cas looked at Dean, not sure where to go now.

“What about any, uh, rituals. Were there any animal killings or sacrifices?” Dean saw the blond man give his partner a long look and this time Dean stepped back, turning so he could see both men. Curly nodded so slightly that if Dean wasn't so good at watching people, he’d have missed it.

“We can’t discuss particulars of an open case.” The blond man shut them down.

Cas pulled on the tall man’s arm, “Please it could be, umph” in a blink, Cas was face up against the wall, his arms being jerked upwards behind him. 

“You looking for an assaulting an officer charge?” the blond man spoke menacingly

“Hey!” Dean’s reaction to seeing Cas being manhandled was immediate, but he had barely taken a step when his feet were swept from underneath him and there was a heavy knee on his back and his hands being held behind him.

“Stay still.” Curly ordered, but Dean kept straining to see what was being done to Cas. Cas was still against the wall, the officer patting him down and going through his pockets and then he felt the officer patting him down and grimaced as he found the Glock tucked in the holster in the small of his back. 

“Hutch. Gun.” Curly tossed the gun at his partner, who caught it expertly, and then proceeded to cuff Dean’s wrists.

“This one’s clean.” Hutch said, turning Cas around. “Keep your hands where I can see them. Try anything and you wear bracelets like your friend there. Got it?” Cas nodded, then said, “Officer Starsky, there’s been a misunderstanding."

Curly helped Dean back to his feet and said, “It’s Sergeant and I’m Starsky. He’s Hutch.” Starsky took the Glock back from his partner and looked at it. “I’ve never seen one of these before. Looks German.”

“Close. Austrian.” Dean mentally cursed himself. Glocks weren’t manufactured until the early 80’s. His G30 was going to be lighter by far than either of the guns sitting in the holsters of the two officers.

“You gotta permit?” Starsky asked.

“Not on me.” Dean knew they wouldn’t be able to trace the gun but really didn't want to have their mission thwarted over this, nor did he want to be without his gun. Thankfully the sergeant didn't open the clip to find the salt rounds. “It’s at home, in Kansas.”

“Oh yeah? Where?” Dean knew the man was fishing for ways to trip him up, so he decided to go with the truth, or a close approximation. “Lawrence. Can these come off? You got my piece. I’ll be good, like my friend there.”

Cas had not moved a muscle from where Hutch had left him, but then Hutch wasn’t exactly giving him a lot of space to move around in. 

“Alright, but you two are gonna come back and sit down for a bit.” Starsky tucked the Glock into his back pocket and uncuffed Dean, who rubbed his wrists. Both men grabbed Dean and Cas by the elbows and led them back into the bullpen.

The room was grey with heavy metal desks and stiff green chairs. Typewriters pinged out reports and on each desk sat a big, black rotary phone. The blond man, whom Dean now knew to be Hutch, turned two green chairs so they were side by side and pushed Cas into one of them. Dean sat in the next one with little urging from Starsky, who sat on the edge of the desk, his right leg dangling and his left propped up on another desk chair. Once again, Dean was astounded by how tight the man’s jeans were and how he could just sit there, legs spread, like he didn’t even care if everyone stared at his junk or gazed at his chest hair. “70’s, man.” Dean whispered towards Cas, who didn’t understand but leaned his ear closer to Dean all the same. 

“What exactly do you think the Marcus cult has?”

Cas sat up a little as if to speak but Dean put a hand on his shoulder. “Dean, if you have a better idea, now would be a great time.” Dean lifted both his hands in exasperation and leaned back.

“Legend says there was a knife that inspires fratricide. It was first used by Cain to kill Abel and later by…”

“Joseph’s brothers to slay a goat.” Starsky finished.

“And you think this weapon still exists, if it ever did?” Hutch asked incredulously.

“I assure you, it is real and the actions of this cult bear out its use. This is the weapon used in the first murder humanity ever experienced, one brother against another. That act left a mark, a kind of echo that has only increased with time.”

Dean watched the two detectives exchange looks. They seemed to have the ability to read each other’s thoughts. Clearly they were trying to decide if Cas was crazy or not. Time to step in.

“Look, Sergeants, I know how this sounds, but we actually know what we’re talking about. If you don’t have it in evidence, then if you can just tell us where the cult is currently holed up, we will take it from there.”

“’Sides the ones in custody, we got no clue.” Starsky spoke quietly, holding eye contact with Dean. It was then that Dean noticed that the cop and the angel both had the same color eyes.

Hutch cleared his throat, which made both men break their gaze. Dean quickly looked at Cas, who was squinting at him. He felt a slightly-guilty smile on his own face and turned away. 

“We know they were last at the old civic zoo out in the canyon. We can get you directions if you like.” Hutch had stepped slightly in front of his partner and Dean wasn’t sure, but it looked like he was close enough that his ass would be touching his partner’s leg behind him. If he thought he and Cas stood close, they had nothing on these two.

“Dean,” Cas asked, so the hunter turned to look at him. “We don’t have a car.” Dean nodded. Without Cas’ ability to zap them everywhere, they were a bit stranded. This hadn’t worried Dean because he’d planned on stealing one as soon as they were released. Wasn’t going to share that with Cas in front of two 5-O's though.

“We can drive you out there.” Starsky offered. Hutch turned his back on them and began speaking into Starsky’s ear. Dean watched in fascination as Hutch’s hand rested on Starsky’s thigh and Starsky snaked one hand around his partner’s waist. 

“Starsk, you haven’t been out there since…”

“I know.“ Starsky cut him off. “But what if this Weapon thing is what is keepin’ this cult going?”

“The only thing keeping this cult going is drugged out teens looking for a high and a fuck. They are brainwashed and damaged. That’s all.”

Dean saw Starsky’s gaze harden towards his partner. It was unclear who the top was in this little gay drama he saw unfolding, but it was fascinating to watch. “You weren’t the one being offered up for sacrifice. There’s more to this. We’ve always known that. Ain’t it worth a trip out there to see if these two bozos are right?”

Hutch spoke so low Dean had to strain to hear what he said next. “But the nightmares have only just stopped.” Starsky’s face softened so much that Dean was certain that if he and Cas weren’t sitting there, the detective would kiss his partner.

“I’ll be OK. Promise.” With that, Starsky winked and turned back towards them. “My car’s out front. Let’s go.”

&&&&&

Dean had to geek out a little bit when he realized the Torino he’d seen outside belonged to Sgt. Starsky. When he said he drove a ’67 Impala, Starsky’s blue eyes twinkled as he said, “FoMoCo.”

Dean rolled his eyes and said, “Fix Or Repair Daily.” 

Starsky laughed and said, “Well, if Ford sucks than Chevy swallows.” Dean really didn’t want this to go that way any further, so he gave a half-hearted chuckle and climbed into the back as the detective held the driver’s seat forward for him, grinning wide. 

Starsky looked at Hutch over the top of the car and said, “I like him.”

“Just don’t like him too much, Buddy.” 

“You worry more than Aunt Rose.” Starsky winked at Hutch again, who smiled lightly.

As they drove along the winding mountain road, Cas leaned close to Dean. “Why do you think this vehicle is unsafe?”

“Huh?” 

“You told the curly-haired man that his car needed constant maintenance.”

“Oh, no. There’s this sorta rivalry between guys who own Fords and those who own Chevys. It was just a teasing thing.”

“I see. Is that why he implied they perform fellatio?” 

“Dude, we are **not** going to talk about blow jobs, especially in front of those two.” Dean hissed into Cas’ ear.

“It bothers you that they are intimate?” Cas asked.

Dean had to check himself a bit. He really didn’t care at all what the two men did. But it did bother him. Why did it bother him? His lack of response gave Cas a chance to add, “I was thinking they reminded me of you and Sam.”

“No fucking way. Sammy and I never touch each other like that.”

“Not physically, no. But these two men communicate on a level I’ve only seen between you and Sam. They may be lovers, but they are also like brothers.”

“Do you think they are lovers?” Dean asked, curious.

“No idea unless they say so. But they are clearly intimately connected. Which brings me back to my first question. Why does this bother you?”

At that moment, he realized that he and Cas were now fully touching along their bodies, whispering into each other’s ears. He pulled away, ignoring the fact that he didn’t really want to, and said quietly, “It doesn’t. They’re fine. Who cares?”

“You say something?” Hutch asked as Dean leaned against the window. Dean looked at the man, who had his left arm draped across the top of the front seat, hand resting right behind his partner’s head. “Nope, I’m good.”

Hutch glanced back at Cas, who was also leaning as far from Dean as he could get. Starsky looked over at his partner and they had another of those moments where entire conversations seemed to go on silently. Dean focused on the quickly passing landscape instead.

&&&&&

Dean lifted his head as he felt the Torino slow down. They came to a stop in front of an eight-foot iron fence. Steel letters spelling out CIVIC ZOO ran across the top. He looked over at Cas, who had fallen asleep. He grabbed the fallen angel’s arm and shook him gently. “Yo, Sleeping Beauty. Wake up.”

Cas jerked awake, startled and disoriented, but seemed to calm down when his eyes found Dean’s. “You OK Cas?”

“I’m fine Dean.” He answered stiffly and pulled his arm out of Dean’s hand. The passenger front seat went forward and Hutch extended his hand towards Cas, who grabbed it, allowing Hutch to help him out of the back seat.

“You wanna hand, pal?” Starsky’s right hand was on his hip as he held the front seat forward with his left.

“Like hell.” Dean grumbled.

“Didn’t think so.” Dean struggled a little bit to get enough leverage to pull himself out of the narrow space between the door panel and the back seat, catching his foot in the seatbelt and nearly falling forward. Starsky caught him and helped him upright, smoothing his shirt down his chest, rubbing a little too slowly.

“Watch your step there, Green-eyes. You don’t wanna damage that pretty face now do ya?”

Dean felt himself go totally red. “Um, no, yeah, thanks.”

“Good.” Starsky smiled lightly, which creased the skin at his eyes in a very attractive way and Dean turned away, refusing to look at any of the men. They just needed to get the knife, go home, fix Sammy and get everything back to fucking normal.

Starsky made a large sweeping movement to close the door, chuckling as he walked around the front. Hutch placed a hand on Starsky’s elbow. “Stop flirting with the man, Starsk. You’re upsetting him.”

“Maybe he needs a little upsettin’.”

“That’s not our call and you know it.”

“Hutch, I can either flirt with the guy or think about bein’ here. Which way you want it?”

Hutch’s gave him a pitying look, which Starsky shut down by running his hand around the back of Hutch’s neck and fingering into his hair. “I’m fine, Babe. Really.”

Stepping away from his partner, Starsky said, “It’s through here.” Pushing open the broken gate, he led them down the path towards the bear cage that he knew all too well. He’d only been half-lying to Hutch, as he felt his own breaths quicken and worked to keep his panic at bay. It had been six months since he’d been stripped, burned, beaten and strung up to be sliced open for sacrifice. Hutch had been right about the nightmares, but really, the nightmares never stopped; they only changed subject matter.

“What happened to you here?” Starsky had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t realized Cas was walking alongside him.

“Thought you’d read about it in the paper.” Starsky slowed his pace a little.

“The paper indicated you’d been kidnapped to keep Simon Marcus from being sentenced. It didn’t say what you endured while you were here. Or why your partner would be so concerned about you.”

“Hutch and I’ve been through a lot. He wears his concern for me on his face, but his shadows are just as dark.”

“You are hunters of men.” Cas offered knowingly.

“Never would put it like that, but yeah, I guess we are. Experiences like ours, well, they teach ya things. Like how I know you and your friend ain’t anthropology professors.” Starsky kept walking, but sensed Cas miss his steps for moment and then catch up.

“Our calling is, unusual.”

“Much easier for us to help you when all the pieces are on the board.” Starsky glanced at the man.

“I’m not sure I could explain in a way that would make sense. We need the Weapon to help heal Dean’s brother. So, yes, our mission is personal, not professional.”

“Don’t explain how he’s carrying a firearm I’ve never seen or heard of or the fact that both of you look like you fought a war against Satan himself and lived to tell about it.”

Cas couldn’t help but laugh at that. “If I told you we’d done exactly that would you believe it?”

Starsky stopped and looked deeply at the angel. “From you, I might. The other one is too much of a bullshit artist.”

“Dean is practiced at subterfuge.” Cas confirmed as started walking again.

&&&&&

Dean walked along slowly, wanting as much distance between himself and Sgt. Starsky as he could have. He’d hoped Cas would stay closer to him, but it was probably good that he wasn’t. Ever since the bar where they’d seen Cupid pairing a homosexual couple, Dean had thought that it was probably time for a talk about what was happening between them. He just didn’t have a clue how to do it. Then there was Sammy to care for, Cas to help adjust to being human, Charlie and Kevin working out how to get Metatron out of heaven and now this trip back to the Me-Decade to find some ancient blade. So much time has passed now, that it hardly seemed worth talking about anymore.

“Sorry for my partner’s little display back there.” Hutch’s words snapped Dean out of his mental reverie.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, no problem.”

“How long you and your friend known each other?”

“I guess I met Cas about five years ago now.”

“Really? You seem like you might be war buddies, but Viet Nam ended in ’72.” Dean knew Hutch was fishing and he had to mentally figure out if he was old enough to have served in Viet Nam in this time. Realizing that he was made him think of his dad. 

“No, yeah, I mean I was there, but Cas got deferment for his, uh back problems.”

“Starsky fought too. I was in college and my draft number never came up.”

“How long you been partners?”

“Six years.”

“And have you been, uh, together, that whole time?”

“What do you mean by together?” It was Hutch’s turn to recognize a fishing expedition.

“You two seem rather, close.”

“Starsky is my partner. I love him and I trust him with my life. There is no one else I want backing me up.”

“OK. But are you, uh, well.” Dean didn’t want to ask but he really did want to know.

“If I said no, what would you think?” Hutch stopped walking and turned toward the hunter.

“I’d think there were aspects of the free-love movement I never considered before.” Dean chuckled but Hutch just stared at him.

“And if I said yes, what would you think?”

Dean tilted his head a bit. “I guess wouldn’t think anything really. Whatever makes you happy.”

“Then why do you want to know? See, you’re hardly the first person to ask. But Starsk and I don’t want to be defined by anyone but each other. We could be anything and only he and I get to decide what that is.”

“Hey man, that’s all well and good, but you gotta know that how you act, it looks, I mean, you can hardly blame anyone from drawing conclusions.”

“You love Cas. Are you fucking him?”

“Woah! We’re not talking about me.”

“Aren’t we? You think keeping a guilty distance from him or the longing looks you give my partner makes any difference in how your behavior is interpreted by anyone watching?”

“Fucking ‘70’s, man. Shit.” Dean took off at a jog to catch up with Cas and Starsky.

&&&&&

Dean rounded the corner and saw Starsky bent over slightly, hands on his thighs. Cas had one arm resting on the man’s back; the other holding onto his forearm.

“What happened?” Dean asked, rushing forward.

“I think he’s having a panic attack.”

“Shut up. No I ain’t.” Starsky spat out as he tried to catch his breath.

Hutch ran up then, immediately recognizing the cage and remembering how he felt seeing Starsky hung by his wrists from the top of it. He pulled his partner upright and pulled him into a tight hug. “It’s OK Starsk. Just breathe. I got you, babe, I got you.” Cas and Dean watched as Hutch rubbed his hands up and down the man’s back, until he felt Starsky’s breathing return to normal. Pulling back a little, he put his hands on the pale face. “You’re safe, right? You’re fine.”

Starsky nodded. “Yeah, I am.”

“You can go back and wait in the Tomato you know. I can walk them down there. You don’t have to do this.”

“Yeah, I know. But I can’t help thinkin’ I should. I don’t want Marcus’ shadow hauntin’ me my whole life.”

“Alright.” Hutch took hold of Starsky’s right hand and started to walk around where the enclosed wall was lowest so they could climb down. Starsky squeezed the hand and said, “I’m OK now Blintz. I know you’re here if I need ya.” With that he let go of Hutch’s hand and turned back towards the other two. 

“You two follow Hutch. I’ll bring up rear.” It did not escape Dean’s awareness that Starsky unsnapped the leather strap that secured the Beretta in his shoulder holster.

“I’d feel a lot better goin’ in there if I had my piece back.” Starsky nodded and pulled Dean’s G30 from the back of his waistband, handing the gun back.

When Dean didn’t holster the weapon, Starsky drew his, aiming at the ground. “Let’s go then.” Starsky motioned with his head for Dean to go first.

Hutch had supervised the forensic teams that had come out here after they’d found Starsky, so he knew exactly where to go to find the lower den where most of Starsky’s torture had happened. His flashlight illuminated a narrow pathway, but even Hutch had to hold his fear in check as they walked along the pitch black corridor. He had no idea how Starsky was holding up. Suddenly, the cavern filled with strong light. Turning he saw Dean holding a small, but very powerful flashlight in his left while his right hand held his gun, sweeping back and forth in standard search formation. Starsky followed with his own flashlight, gun drawn, paralleling Dean’s sweeps, but in opposite directions.

“What kind of light is that?” Hutch asked.

“It’s an LED.”

“What the hell is an LED?”

Dean shook his head and glanced at Cas. “It stands for Light Emitting Diode. It’s just a very powerful light bulb.”

“Huh.” Hutch looked at him doubtfully. “And they teach you A-tactical sweep formation in anthropology school?”

Dean decided it might be wiser to holster his weapon, since it was drawing questions. “No, I was in the service remember.”

“Right.” Hutch gave Starsky a knowing look. “He was in ‘Nam too.”

“Oh yeah? We’ll have to swap war stories later.”

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Dean couldn’t keep the edge of sarcasm out of his voice.

“Dean, over here.” Cas had moved on to a far edge of the bear den and was looking down through a crevice in the wall. Sweeping his light that way, he was by Cas’ side in an instant.

“Looks like it drops down about 25 feet.”

“It’s down there.”

“How do you know?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know why. I just feel it.”

“Well, I hope I can fit through there.” Turning back to the detectives he asked, “You got any repelling ropes in your car?”

“I got rope rope in my car. What the hell’s a repelling rope?”

“Probably never even heard of nylon.” Dean muttered.

“Not sure what ladies stockings have to do with anythin’ but you want me to get the rope or not?” Starsky was giving him a strange look and Hutch was eyeing him warily now too.

“I guess they have heard of nylons Dean” Cas smirked.

“Shuddup. Alright, yes, please get the rope.” After the detectives took off back up the enclosure, Dean started emptying his pockets and unwrapping his shirts from around his waist.

“I’m the one who should go down there Dean.”

“Says who?”

“Says me. I’m thinner and I know what I’m looking for.”

“I’m stronger and don’t give a damn. You’re staying up here.”

“Dean, I am not your pet to keep safe. I’m either your partner or there is very little point to my being here.”

Dean stopped at the word partner. He looked at Cas carefully. Cas had saved his ass more times than he could count. In his full angelic form, Cas could beat this shit out of him and barely break a sweat. When had he stopped seeing Cas as powerful?

“Being human makes me more vulnerable than I was before Dean, but it doesn’t make me less than you. It makes me equal to you.”

“You’re right, man. You are. Sorry.” Dean passed Cas the flashlight as Cas took off his shirt. 

“That really necessary?” Dean asked

“I figured the fabric would catch on the rocks.” Cas gave him the squinty-eyes. “Does my being shirtless bother you?”

Dean gave a high-pitched, “No” and quickly recovered his proper depth and said, “No, you’re swell.” 

Cas started stretching his shoulders for the climb down and Dean said, “Now you’re just doing that on purpose.” Cas gave him a tilt of the head and kept stretching. Giving in, Dean sat down on a rock and watched the calisthenics happening before him. Thankful that Sgt. Starsky hadn’t confiscated his flask, he downed several gulps of whiskey. He was even more thankful that jeans had gotten much baggier than they were in the 70’s so he could hide his growing erection. But he stood up and wrapped his flannel shirt around his waist, letting the arms hang in front, just to be sure.

When the detectives returned with the rope, both men seemed unfazed by Cas’ shirtlessness entirely. Dean figured that men going topless was a more common experience in Southern California. They did notice the anti-possession tattoo.

“It’s a family thing” was Cas’ answer when they asked about it. Dean resolved to not take his shirt off for anything just to avoid any questions about Cas’ handprint burned into his shoulder.

Dean tied knots down the length of the rope and the secured it around one of the steel bars at the top of the enclosure closest to the hole. Dropping the rope, they could see that it missed the floor by about eight feet. 

“You’re gonna have to jump down when you get to the bottom and then jump back up. You sure you can do this?”

“Dean, I’m in far better shape than you’re giving me credit for.” Cas was getting annoyed and Dean backed off. 

“I know. I’d bust Sammy’s chops the same way y’know.”

“Your concern is appreciated.” And then Cas did something he’d only done once, and then it was to heal him: He placed his hand against Dean’s cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” Dean blinked in surprise but said nothing.

With that, Cas turned and began to climb down the rope. Dean, Starsky and Hutch all held their flashlights down to give Cas as much light as they could. Worry battled with attraction as he watched Cas’ biceps, deltoids and subscapulars flex and strain under the weight of descent. Once at the bottom, Cas called up, “Can one of you drop your flashlight?” Dean tossed his down immediately and Cas caught it with practiced ease.

“There’s another cavern down here. I’ll be back.” 

Once he was out of sight, Dean put his face into his arms as he stayed kneeling by the hole. “Shit.”

Five minutes passed and Dean started yelling Cas’ name into the hole. “Castiel you better fuckin’ answer me or I’m coming down there after you! Cas?! Cas!!” 

“There’s no need to shout Dean, I can hear you just fine.” Cas was standing behind them and all three jumped, spinning and ready to fight.

“How the hell’d you do that?” Hutch shouted.

“There was a service entrance at the other end of the cavern and I walked up the stairs. It would seem that was where they stored extra food and maintenance equipment for the zoo.” Cas walked over and started putting his shirt back on.

“Well that would have been a nice thing to clue us in on!” Dean walked up close, glowering over him.

“I was in no danger and running back through the tunnel to shout up at you and then back seemed a waste of time. You have start trusting me Dean.”

“Did you find it?”

Cas smiled. “I did.” He pulled from his back pocket a knife, the blade carved of ebony and the handle made of pure stone. As Dean looked closer, he realized that it was all the same rock, just that the blade had been chiseled and the handle had not. All three men crowded around the weapon now admiring it.

“How is this supposed to help your brother?” Starsky asked. Dean shot Cas look that indicated the angel had been telling stories out of turn. Cas shrugged his shoulders to show he didn’t give a shit.

“Dean’s brother is healing from things you probably wouldn’t believe if I told you. This weapon was forged to commit fratricide. My theory is that by grinding it up and having Dean administer it to him as an act of healing, we will correct the ancient wrong. Bringing the nature back into balance, if you will.”

“Nice idea, but you gotta get home for it to work.” Starsky’s eyes suddenly went black and Dean flew into tackle, slamming him to the ground.

Hutch drew his gun and aimed it as Dean, “Get off him now!” Cas disarmed him with speed Hutch had never seen before and he pulled back to punch the angel.

“He’s not your partner. Help me if you want him to live.”

Cas dropped to the ground and started to carve a devil’s trap using Cain's Weapon. He glanced up to see how Dean was doing. The Sergeant was clearly strong and was getting some hard blows in. 

“Anytime now Cas!” Dean shouted. At that moment, Starsky left Dean and went after Cas, kicking the hand that held the knife, causing it to go flying.

“Not helpful Dean!” Cas yelled as he scrambled for the knife.

Hutch tackled his partner from behind, pulling Starsky’s arms behind him and attempting to cuff him. “C’mon Starsk, give. Why are you doing this?” His demon-possessed partner rolled underneath him and started thrusting and grinding against Hutch, who was straddling him.

“Oh man, how long he’s wanted to you do try and do this.” Starsky’s hand locked on to Hutch’s hips and held him there, rubbing hard cock against growing hard cock. “See, you’ve been wanting him to do this too, haven’t you. You should hear him in here, moaning with want.”

Hutch closed his eyes and said, “Starsk, don’t. Please.”

“That’s it, beg. He’s always wanted to hear you beg for it.” Hutch’s eyes snapped open and he punched Starsky’s jaw repeatedly while the demon laughed and held his hips in a vice grip, grinding the whole time. “If you won’t give it up, he’s been eyeing the pretty hunter over there. And all of Hell knows what kind of kink he’s into.”

“Hutch!” Dean shouted. “Roll him!” Hutch grabbed Starsky’s head and rolled them in the direction Dean shouted from. When Hutch was on top of him again, he felt Starsky’s body go ridged and scream. Hutch felt someone grab him and yank him off his partner.

Panting, Hutch asked, “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s been possessed by a demon. Dean what should we do? If we exorcise him, the demon can just go into Hutch.”

“If we destroy the knife it will lose what it came for.” Dean offered.

Starsky’s form started to laugh. “As if Abbadon gives a shit about your knife. It’s the curing of Sam Winchester that she cares about. You’ll never make it back to him alive. Go ahead, exorcise me. Or better yet, cut up this hot body into tiny pieces and bury them. No matter what you do, the Queen of Hell will find you.”

“Alright, we need supplies. Cas, you go with Hutch and get salt, and the stuff we need to get home.”

“Dean, without a portal it won’t work.”

“We’re fucking surrounded by piles of rocks Cas, make one or I don’t know, say the chant extra Gaelic-y. But what else can we try?”

Cas nodded and added, “How will I prevent him from getting possessed out there?”

Dean took the knife from Cas’ hand. “You tolerate pain OK?”

“Why?” Hutch asked him stoically

“I need to carve this,” he pulled his shirt down, exposing the tattoo on his collar bone, “into your flesh. It won’t look pretty, but it will be effective.”

“D-d-d-oes it have t-t-to be on my chest?” Hutch often stuttered when his adrenaline was running high.

“No, I can do it anywhere you want.”

“OK.” Hutch unbuckled his wide leather belt and pulled his pants down enough to expose the flat area off the side of his left hip.

Dean knelt down, holding the ancient stone blade between his fingers. He started with the pentagram and Hutch chocked down a scream of pain, which was quickly drowned out by Starsky’s full blown screams. Hutch looked panicked at Cas. “What’s happening to him?” and he made to move.

“Stay still dammit, or I’m gonna slice you up for nothing!” Dean bellowed.

Starsky’s possessed form was writhing in pain, rolling onto his left hip and grinding it into the ground. Cas jumped on his legs and started unbuckling the detective’s pants, forcing them down. With each cut Dean carved into Hutch’s hip, an exact replica appeared on Starsky’s flesh, blood oozing from every slice.

Cas looked over at Dean. “I’ve never seen anything like this.” The more of the sigil that appeared the more violently Starsky’s form thrashed.

Dean finally finished the flames that radiated from the circle that encompassed the pentagram and at that moment thick black smoke shot from Starsky’s mouth but rather than escape into the sky like they were used to seeing, the smoke boiled and spun over the Devil’s Trap. Cas quickly grabbed Starsky’s legs and yanked him as far from the Trap as he could, trying to roll the detective’s legs up so as to not drag the freshly-cut sigil across the harsh ground. 

The black smoke was now settling into a perfect column held entirely within the confines of the trap. It was like watching soup boil in a transparent pot.

“Well, that’s new.” Dean stood up and looked back at the anti-possession cutting he’d done. “Good thing you’re wearing tighty-whiteys,” he remarked as he helped Hutch pull his underwear carefully over the spot and watched as the cotton fabric began to absorb the blood that oozed from the wound. 

Starsky gave a pained chuckle and said, “Guess it’s a good thing mine are red already.” Cas was helping him cover up the matching wound.

“Alright, Cas, you go with Hutch and get supplies and I’ll figure out…”

“If it’s all the same, I think I’d rather have you go with me instead.” Hutch gave a quick glance at his partner, who hung his head a bit, both of them clearly remembering the demon’s words.

Dean hesitated a bit and Cas walked over to him. “Go ahead Dean. You’ll need chamomile, burned witch hazel, ground amethyst, a copper pot and unscented beeswax candles. The fabric should be natural and if dyed, only with natural pigments. You got it?”

“Yeah.” On impulse, Dean grabbed the back of Cas’ neck and held it for a moment and then turned, Hutch following.

&&&&&

Hutch tossed Dean the keys to the Torino. Dean gave him a look of surprise and Hutch said, “I only drive the Tomato if I have to.” Dean smiled and was happy to oblige, even if it was a Ford.

Cruising back down the mountain towards town, Dean broke the silence. “So you two never…”

“No. Are you happier now that you know that?”

“More curious why not.”

“Starsky and I are complicated. People call us french-kissing homo cops, but we’ve never seen ourselves that way. We like flirting with women, we like having sex with women, but girls just aren’t enough. And they usually can’t handle either our jobs or our partnership, so they leave or end up dead.”

Hutch’s voice went quiet over those last words and Dean couldn’t help but notice that police work wasn’t all that different from hunting when you got down to it.

“Starsky and I have separate homes but not separate lives. I can’t, no won’t, live my life without him. My feelings aren’t for men, they’re for Starsky alone. He and I’ve never talked about this or anything, we just are. It’s enough. For right now, anyway.”

Dean kneaded his hands over the steering wheel, thinking. “I can’t live without my brother. And I love me some tight tits and a firm ass. But Cas, Cas is different.”

“Yeah.” Hutch agreed. “Have you talked to him?”

“No. Mostly because I just couldn’t identify myself that way. Too much baggage in my upbringing, I guess.”

“I get that. I grew up in Minnesota, so I know how the mid-west can be. But letting other people define how you express yourself to someone you love…I just couldn’t live that way. No matter what state I lived in.” Dean nodded, focusing on the road, lost in his own thoughts.

&&&&&

“Are you doing OK, Sergeant?” Cas wished he had some water to offer the man who was sitting against the wall nursing a broken nose, bruised jaw and wounded hip.

“Yeah. You can call me Starsky though.”

“As you wish.” Cas slid down next to him, fingering the Weapon in his hands.

“What are you guys really?”

“I’m not sure where to begin.”

“How about with where you are from?”

Cas’ mouth turned up in a slight grin. “That part of our story is true. We came from Kansas, but from a town called Lebanon, not Lawrence. The better question is _when_ are we from.”

Starsky raised one eyebrow at him but stayed silent. 

Taking in a deep breath, Cas said, “We are from the late fall of 2013. We needed the Weapon and its last known location, based on my research of how the weapon works, was the Simon Marcus cult. So we used a druid portal to travel back in time to try and find it.”

“So, have you even been born yet?” Starsky asked.

“I have. Dean won’t be born for fourteen months.”

“Great. Not only does Hutch think I’m lusting after him, but he’s a fucking baby.”

“Demons twist our deepest fears and feelings. Just because the demon spoke it, doesn’t mean it’s an accurate picture of who you really are.”

Starsky gave a slight chuckle. “Your friend is pretty hot though, even for a guy.”

“I am aware of his attractiveness to both men and women.” Cas kept fingering the stone knife absently

“And what about his attractiveness to you?”

“My feelings for Dean have long been complicated. I haven’t always been human.” Then seeing Starsky’s look of apprehension and his starting to shift away, Cas amended, “I wasn’t a demon. I was an angel. But my grace was stolen from me six months ago.”

Starsky relaxed against the fallen angel and whispered, “Why not?” under his breath.

Continuing, Cas said, “Dean was a human in my protection, but angels are supposed to keep a certain distance, emotionally, from our charges. That distance was something I was unable to maintain with Dean.”

“Because he fell in love with you or you fell in love with him.”

“He is not in love with me. My affection for him is deep, but only humans feel love in its full expression. Now that I’m human, I am discovering the difference.”

“And?”

“And, yes, I am in love with him. More profoundly than I was before. But I can also feel the human fears of loss and rejection. So I would much rather take whatever Dean is able to give me and learn to be content with that, than risk him pushing me away entirely.”

“As someone who has been in love with his partner for years, I can understand that.”

“You’ve never told Hutch how you feel about him?” Cas was surprised, given the obvious closeness of the two men.

“Have now, I guess, thanks to whatever the hell that is.” Starsky gestured towards the black smoke. “But really, I never felt like I had to. Hutch an’ me, we like how things are. I figured when it stopped being enough, I’d talk to him. Until then, why bother? Question is, is it enough for you?”

“That is the question isn’t it.” Cas nodded.

&&&&&

Cas and Starsky had moved on to other matters theological and philosophical when Dean and Hutch returned with the items needed to attempt their time portal.

“Ain’t that the sheepskin from my bathroom?” Starsky asked

“Your place was closer. Quit whining.” Hutch ordered.

Cas spread the sheepskin on the ground and laid the Weapon across the top of the copper bowl containing all the ingredients they had collected. Dean sat down across from him and Cas motioned for the other two detectives to sit, completing the circle.

“Ancient texts refer to the Mark of Cain. What happened with your sigils made me remember it. I think part of the Weapon’s power is that when it’s used to wound flesh, a parallel mark is made in the siblings’ flesh.”

Starsky looked at Hutch. “All of Marcus’ followers had the same upside down cross carved in their foreheads.”

Cas nodded. “I’m thinking that same power could be tapped to connect us to our brother across time.” He looked up to see if Dean objected to him referring to Sam as his brother too. Dean smiled at him and winked.

“I need you two to hold hands across the circle.” Cas motioned to Starsky and Hutch. Cas held his hands over the top of theirs, Dean clasped his wrists to begin with this time. 

“Wait.” Starsky interrupted. “Look us up when you get back.”

“Starsk, we might not even be alive.”

“Hutch we’ll be 70. We better be alive.”

“If we can find you, we will. Promise.” Dean assured them.

“Ready?” Cas looked at each of them for a nod and then began chanting. “Bandia an am agus talamh, baile treoir a thabhairt dúinn chun ár deartháir. Kin Cruinnigh do kin, uniting teaghlaigh uair amháin níos mó.”

The wind once again swirled around them with ferocity and then suddenly stopped, Cas and Dean finding themselves in Sam’s bedroom. Dean looked down. Like before, the bowl and the knife, had not made the trip.

Dean fell back in exasperation. “Well, that was a motherfuckin’ waste of time.”

Cas jumped up and went out to the main room in the bunker. Charlie was at her computer and Kevin was making coffee. “You’re back?” Charlie exclaimed. “Did you find it?”

“Sort of. Can you do a search for Sergeant David Starsky?”

“Easy-peasy. You want address, cell phone, bank records? What?”

“Cell phone should be sufficient.”

“I have a Sergeant David Starsky, retired Bay City PD. That him?” 

“Yes.” Cas marveled at all that Charlie could discover in a short period of time.

“309-555-8793”

Cas typed the number into his iPhone and hoped that they would have held onto it.

“Hello?”

Sgt. Starksy’s voice had not changed significantly I almost 40 years, and Cas recognized him immediately.

“Starsky, this is Castiel, uh Winchester.” That prompted a look between Charlie and Kevin and he pulled out a $20 from his wallet and gave it to a very smug looking Charlie. Cas chose to ignore all of this.

“We’ve been wondering when you’d call. Hutch and I have been staying in an Extended Stay here in Lebanon since mid-October.”

“Do you have the Weapon?”

“We do. Where can we bring it?”

Cas gave them directions to the dirt road that led to the bunker and hung up. Seeing Charlie’s expression he glowered at her and said, “I’d advise you keeping your comments to yourself.” She laughingly threw up her hands and said, “I’m not saying a damn thing.”

Twenty minutes later, Dean and Cas sat on the trunk of the Impala waiting. 

“Cas Winchester huh?”

“The knife says we’re brothers.”

Dean gave him a questioning look. “You mean, you thought the knife might just send me back?”

“It was certainly a possibility. I hoped our bond would be sufficient enough, however.”

“That would have been important info to share with the class, Castiel.” Dean rarely used his full name and Cas knew his friend was upset.

“If I had made you aware of the possibility, would you have performed the ritual?”

“Hell no.”

“Exactly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean.”

“It means that as long as you are stubbornly obstinate, I will tell you what I need to.”

“Like you did in purgatory?” Dean’s voice was harsh with accusation.

Cas met his eyes and placed a calming hand on his arm. “Yes, like in purgatory.”

“If you want me to treat you as an equal, Cas, that has to go both ways. You have no right to take away my choices either.”

“I remember watching some daytime show where a pop-psychologist told people that relationships take work. Suppose this is what he meant?”

“Maybe.”

Dean heard the rumble of the Torino’s engine before he saw it and hopped off the trunk as the old Ford made its way up the dirt road. When the car stopped, out stepped a mostly grey-haired Starsky. He was a tiny bit heavier than when they’d last seen him, which was only 2 hours ago for Dean and Cas. 

“Got some scruff goin’ on there, eh Detective?” Dean extended his hand to the man old enough to be his father. 

“Jesus, you’re exactly the same. And still very, very pretty.” Starsky slapped a lingering hand along Dean’s ass, which made him jump but gave the old man a raised-eyebrow and a grin.

“Quit flirting with the man Starsk. You look ridiculous.” Hutch got out on the passenger side. His hair still held some golden blonde in it and he too was sporting a beard. Dean felt a pang as he saw the man walking with a cane.

“Like you wouldn’t tap that if you could, Old Man.” Starsky’s blue eyes still twinkled bright as he walked over to shake Cas’ hand.  
Dean walked over to Hutch, so he wouldn’t have to walk far. “You ever have that conversation?” Dean asked, giving the man a quick hug.

“You could say that.” Hutch smiled slightly. “You?”

“We’ve only been back a few hours, so no, not yet.”

“Wow, it must be weird to see us like this when you just saw us in our prime.”

“A little, yeah, but you both look great. Really.” Dean winked at Hutch.

“Are you flirting with an old man, son?”

Dean laughed and offered an arm to Hutch who took it, walking slowly with his cane in his right hand.

Starsky pulled a large bundle wrapped in oilskin from his inside jacket pocket. As he unwrapped it, Cas noted the sigils stamped into the oilskin. “I figured something this powerful should have some warding around it.” Starsky offered as he handed the knife to Cas. 

“I’m going to start grinding it right now.” Cas said, nodding to each detective. “Thank-you both. For everything.” His last words were spoken right to Starsky, who nodded. Cas disappeared down the stairs into the bunker.

“Would you like to come in? Sam is still out of it but we could scrounge up some grub somewhere.”

“Naw, we’re gonna head back to California. Winter’s here and the sooner our old bones get back to warm sunshine the better. Quit sittin’ on the back of that Chevy if you want the paint to last.” Starsky walked over and took Hutch’s arm to start helping him walk back to the Torino.

“Yes sir.” Dean chuckled. 

After Starsky had helped Hutch back into the car, he stood outside the driver’s door. “Tell him, son. Sooner the better. Trust me.”

“I will.” Dean promised.

Starsky nodded at him and shook his head a bit, muttering under his breath, “Shoulda tapped that when I had the chance.” 

“Quit your grumbling and get in the car, Starsk.” Starsky smiled and winked at Dean once more before sliding into the driver’s seat and began turning around. Once they were off, Dean waved at them once more and went back inside.

&&&&&

Cas was busy working in the lab, grinding down the weapon and mixing in other spell ingredients when Dean came in.

“They take off?” He asked as he kept working.

“Yeah.” Dean walked up and wrapped his arms around his angel, holding him close.

“Dean? Why are you doing that?”

“Because I feel like it.” Cas felt Dean’s nose and lips nuzzle against the back of his neck and Cas’ breath hitched at the rush of endorphins that flooded his system and flowed straight to his cock.

Cas turned in Deans arms so that he was facing him. “That’s not enough.”

Dean pulled away a bit, but kept his arms around Cas’ waist.

“It’s all I have right now.”

“So, you’re not in love with me?” Cas barely whispered.

“No, I’m totally in love with you. I just don’t know exactly how I want to express that right now. I need some time. Can you give me that?”

Cas thought about his conversation with Starsky. “For now, yeah. But I don’t know for how long.”

Dean pulled Cas towards him in a tight hug, and felt the other man’s swollen penis rub against his and let out a low moan. “Don’t worry about that. I don’t imagine you’ll have to wait long.”

At that, Cas leaned up and kissed Dean tenderly, slowly. As if triggered by some invisible force, Dean’s hands wrapped around Cas’ jawlines and he returned the kiss with greater passion, tongue pleading for entrance, which was immediately offered. Kissing Cas was so much different than kissing a girl. Cas’ lips were strong and the feel of light stubble against Dean's cheek was far more arousing than it should have been. Finally, Cas broke the kiss.

“Dean, I need to finish this. For Sam.” 

Dean took a step back and struggled to regain composure, his cock throbbing hard, screaming for relief.

“Right. Yeah, let’s get Sammy back up and running. But Cas?”

Cas was also working hard to pull himself back together and re-focus on what he needed to be doing. “Yeah?”

“Hurry.”

“Ain’t like I’m goin’ nowhere.” He said, mimicking Starsky’s broken English.

Dean winked at him and headed off to spend some time with Sam.


End file.
